


Help Me

by Creazy



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst with a Happy Ending, Larry is a dick but it's because he doesn't understand, Mental Illness, Young Connor Murphy, angsty afffffffff, if people want me to write that far that is, this is gonna be a mess, tw intrusive thoughts, tw suicidal ideation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-11-17 22:41:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11278254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creazy/pseuds/Creazy
Summary: Connor Murphy was a good kid. He was happy, he loved jokes, and he was a good big brother. Mental illness doesn't care about all those things though. It takes whoever it pleases and it doesn't give them back without a fight. Developing a mental illness when you are young brings up even more obstacles. Getting help is even harder.





	1. There Were Moments

**Author's Note:**

> So this is inspired by the cut song that was released "Little Bit of Light" as well as my personal experience growing up in a house with my younger cousin who developed major BPD at a very young age. My goal for the first chapter is to tell the origin story and then in later chapters tell the current day story. This is unbeta-ed and it's midnight so I hope you enjoy!

He didn’t know when it had gotten this bad. He didn’t really have any concept of time anymore. Every day was painful and it seemed unending. His temper would rage and he didn’t know how to control it. Connor Murphy was sick, but no one really noticed. They were too busy running away from him, or avoiding him all together. He needed help.

 

Connor remembers a time in elementary school, it wasn’t as bad back then, when he actually had fun. He would play with his little sister at the orchard. When she was born he was so excited because that meant he would always have a friend to play with. He told his mom that he was going to be the best big brother in the entire world. To be fair, he tried his best. Mental illness is a sneaky beast and it doesn’t take days off.

 ***********************************************

“Connor Murphy put that down right now!” His mom screamed.

Connor was only 10 at the time, but his temper was already getting a little out of control. He stood with one of the china plates ready to throw it against the wall. He was not hungry and he told her that but she wouldn’t listen. She wouldn’t listen to him. He said he wasn’t hungry and she said he had eat with them. He didn’t want to. So there they stood, Cynthia trying to corral a child who is determined to get his way. She felt like such a failure as a parent. How could she raise a child this destructive? What had she done wrong?

Later that night after dinner was over and everything had calmed down Connor had brought his homework down to the living room and sat at the coffee table to work on.

“Mom?” Connor called.

“What’s up, sweetie?” Cynthia replied as she walked into the living room, silently praying that the fighting was over for the night.

“I don’t really understand this. Do you think you can help me?” He asked holding the paper up for her to look at.

She smiled at her son as she took the paper. “Of course! Let’s see what we’re dealing with here.” She sat down on the floor as Connor scooted over to give her some room. “Oh, you’re in luck. I am an expert when it comes to this stuff!”

“An expert?” Connor laughed.

Cynthia put the paper back on the table and rustled his hair. “Yes. I am an expert. Now grab your pencil and lets show these problems who’s boss.” She smile.

He rolled his eyes with a smile as he grabbed his pencil and she couldn’t help but give him a kiss on the head even though he protested the entire time. The events of earlier had been pushed to the back of her mind as she sat on the floor with her son joking and working on homework. He was okay. It was probably just one of those days. He’ll be fine.

***************************************************

When Connor turned 13 it only got worse. Cynthia was concerned but even Larry was telling her that it was just a phase and he’d get over his “teen angst” soon enough. She wasn’t so sure, but she let it go anyway.

“LET ME IN. LET ME IN THE FUCKING HOUSE RIGHT NOW. I SWEAR TO GOD.” Connor shouted from outside the door.

Cynthia sat on the stairs inside of the house as a couple of tears ran down her cheek. He hadn’t hurt anyone. He didn’t even touch anyone. He had just thrown some things and broken some others. He was threatening to hit Zoey. She had to do something. He was growing and soon she wouldn’t be able to simply pull him away. She could hear her son banging on the door.

“MOM I SWEAR TO GOD OPEN THIS DOOR OR I’LL BREAK A WINDOW.” He shouted. There was a moment of silence before he continued. “FINE. WHATEVER.” And with one loud kick to the door, it went quiet. The banging stopped. The shouting stopped.

She waited a moment because she knew that there was no way he had calmed down that fast. Especially with as worked up as he was. After a couple of minutes passed and there were no more screams she wiped her face with her sleeve and crept over to the window. He was gone. She looked around and didn’t see Connor anywhere. Larry was still at work and she didn’t quite know what to do. After collecting herself a bit more she slowly opened the front door and looked out. He was nowhere to be seen. She then began to panic a little bit. Where had he gone? Is he okay? Would he hurt someone else? She quickly grabbed her phone and called his. It had been almost a half an hour since she had heard from him last. He could be almost anywhere.

First try there were a couple of rings and then it went to voicemail. Her heart skipped a beat because that meant that he was okay, right? If he could send her call to voicemail, he must be okay. She decided to leave a voicemail so she took a deep breath and put on the most confident voice she could muster.

“Connor, honey, I’m sorry we locked you out. I don’t know where you went, but I want you to know that I love you very much and I want you to be safe. I just had to think about Zoey……you know what, nevermind. Just come home, Connor. Please.” She started to get a little choked up at the end so she ended the call there.

Teen angst or not he was still her son and she still loved him with all of her heart. She knew that he was a good kid. She remembered how happy he was to see his little sister and he wanted to know if he could feed her a bottle. He was only 3 but he was so ready to be a big brother. She couldn’t figure out what had changed.

About a half an hour later her phone rang. It was Connor. She took a deep breath before picking it up.

“Connor?” She said after she answered the phone. The line was silent though. “Connor? Honey?” She said again, her voice softer this time. From the other end she could hear some breathing. The silence was deafening for what felt like ages.

“Mom?” A voice finally choked out. It was obvious that he had been crying.

“Yes. Honey, are you okay?” She questioned her concern growing with every labored breath that came through the phone.

“Mom can you come get me? I went for a walk and I’m lost and I don’t know what to do.” He said quietly.

Cynthia breathed a sigh of relief. He was okay. “Yes. Yes of course I can come get you. What are you near? Anything you can tell me? Street names? Stores?” She said wiping her eyes and grabbing her keys.

“There is…um...there’s a park here. It has a pond. The sign says Crestview. I don’t know where that is.” He was still very quiet with his words, but she didn’t care. He was going to be okay.

“Okay. I’ll be there in a minute. I’m on my way, okay?” She said

“Okay.” He replied and there was a sound that seemed like a sniffle but the call ended before she could hear anything else.

It only took her about 10 minutes to find the park. She parked the car and got out. As soon as she did she saw him sitting on the little dock by the pond. Knees pulled up to his chest. Hair a mess. She went over to see him.

“Connor?” She said as she got closer not wanting to startle him.

As soon as he turned around she could see his red eyes and puffy face. It was obvious that he had been crying. Once he saw her he immediately got up and ran off the dock to her. He wrapped his arms around her and cried. She was caught off guard by the sudden onset hug. She had not expected this after everything that had happened. He was sobbing now and she immediately brought her arms up to surround the boy. He was only 13. He was still a child. She let one of her hands rest in his hair to try and calm him down.

“Mom. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, mom.” He sobbed into her shoulder.

She just pulled him closer. “It’s okay, honey.” She whispered.

“No, it’s not!” He said louder and she began to pull away.

When he noticed her pull back he immediately began to panic again. “No, wait, mom I’m sorry. Please don’t leave me.” He pleaded.

She pulled him tight again. “Okay. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” She said comfortingly.

“Something’s wrong with me, mom. Something is very wrong.” He said after a few beats of silence.

Cynthia closed her eyes. She knew he was right, but she hadn’t wanted to admit it. “I know, honey. It’ll be okay.”

Connor took a shaky breath, “I never wanted to hurt Zoey. You have to believe me. I didn’t want to.”

She took a deep breath too and though back to only two hours earlier where he was threatening his sister and had smashed the lamp. “I want to believe you, Connor.” She said quietly.

“Help me, mom. Please. Please help me.” He said through tears. She wanted to help, but she didn’t know how. So in that moment she just held on a little tighter and loved a little harder.

***************************************************

Her talk with Larry had gone about as well as could have been expected. “This is a phase Cynthia!” He shouted. “He is taking advantage of your emotions. You have to stand up to him. Grounding him from television isn’t enough anymore. We have to be hard. He needs discipline. He needs to know that this teen angst is not going to fly in our house.”

He was so set on the fact that this was a phase and it was just poor parenting. She didn’t really believe him. He hadn’t seen the way he was last week at the pond.

“He said he wants help, Larry. We owe him at least that much.” She replied, but her replies were met with an exasperated look.

“We are helping him. We are giving him rules. Teenagers need rules. They need to learn that actions have consequences.” Larry said looking back down at the computer as if that was the end of the conversation.

“I really think we should look at other ways to help him though. I think something is wrong. You didn’t see-“ But her words were cut short.

“Listen, I know you mean well, but there is no use in wasting our time when we already know what the problem is. He is a teenage boy. He need more rules and more structure. He’ll be fine. You haven’t ever been a teenage boy, so I don’t expect you to understand.” And with that he closed his laptop and left. Leaving no time for a rebuttal.

Cynthia felt defeated, but maybe he was right. Maybe all they needed were some stricter rules. She gave up on the fight and went on with her day instead. Maybe it would all be okay.

***************************************************

It wasn’t all okay. Far from it. Connor grew more and more distant every day. He would miss curfew, he got in with a bad group of guys, he started doing drugs and drinking, his outbursts were getting more frequent and the house became like walking on eggshells. Larry wasn’t around most of the time anyway. When he was he would just fight with Connor incessantly. Cynthia wanted to tell him to stop, but it never helped before so why would it work now. She felt powerless as she sat back and watched her son that she loved so much float further and further away.

It was his senior year of high school when the flood gates finally broke. No one had been prepared for that.


	2. Trying Still To Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW Intrusive thoughts  
> Connor Murphy was almost 18 and everyone in his life had given up on him. Maybe it was time he gave up on himself too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's not gonna die though so like it's okay. Like I said in Chapter 1 this is hardcore based on my personal experiences so if it doesn't really make sense that's probably why. Connor isn't a bad person, he is a good person who does bad things which a lot of the time is caused by being mentally ill. It doesn't excuse his actions, but it does explain a lot of them. Unbeta-ed. Enjoy.

Connor knew something was wrong, but everyone told him it was just how he was. He was just an evil sadistic person. He just enjoyed his rage. He was nothing more than a pothead freak. That’s what everyone kept telling him. At first he tried to fight it. He tried to tell them he was something more, but eventually he surrendered. No one would help him. Why should he fight it if everyone thought he was a freak anyway? He was a freak. He was worthless. No one cared. He didn’t care that no one cared though. He had spent the last 5 years of his life fighting with his parents. He knew he was the disappointment in the family. It was obvious. He didn’t need help. He couldn’t change. He just needed to disappear. He deserved to disappear.

“Connor, eat your breakfast you’re going to be late for your first day of senior year.” His mother said as she ran around the kitchen getting everything taken care of before everyone left for the day.

“He’s probably high.” Larry said snidely.

Zoey looked at Connor, “He’s definitely high.”

Cynthia stopped what she was doing and looked at her son. “Connor, I don’t want you going to school high.” She sighed.

“Fine then I won’t go. Thanks, mom.” He replied as he grabbed his backpack and pushed in his chair. He could hear her call after him as he walked up the stairs. His head was racing, as always, but what she didn’t understand was that he had to get high. Sometimes he didn’t think that he would make it through the day if he wasn’t. Not because he’s an addict. That’s not the reason. The reason is because it takes the edge off. It quiets the voices in his head that won’t shut up. It made him feel less like he was drowning. What his mother didn’t understand was that even though she thinks that he’s given up, he still tries to fight it. So he gets high, because that’s the only way he knows how to deal with it. He didn’t really care what she thought though. He would always be the family disappointment anyway.

“Connor?” Cynthia said as she knocked on his door. “You have to go to school. Zoey’s driving. Come downstairs.” Her voice was stern, but also tired. He could tell.

“Fine.” He said with an obvious edge to his tone. He might as well get it over with. The sooner he was done with school the better. Would he last one more year? Probably not, but hey who cares anyway.

He got up and grabbed his bag and headed outside to where the car was parked. Zoey was already in the driver’s seat checking her phone. He opened the door and threw his backpack in the back seat. He slammed the door and Zoey glared at him, but didn’t say anything.

“The fuck are you looking at? Just drive.” He snarled.

Zoey looked away and started the car. She knew better than to fight with him. Fights with Connor usually ended in something broken or a person bruised. She learned years ago to pick her battles and this was definitely not one of them.

Their drive was silent and when they pulled into the school they parted ways without saying a word. It wasn’t unusual really. Zoey couldn’t remember the last time they had actually talked to each other without fighting. She didn’t want to admit that she was afraid of him, but she was. Sometimes. Not all the time, but when he got angry and lost control she was very afraid. Sometimes when they were home she would lock herself in her room and put on headphones to try and block out the fighting. She wouldn’t tell anyone that though.

Connor walked into the school avoiding eye contact with everyone. He wasn’t feeling terrible today. Probably because he was high. He wasn’t sure how long that would last though. He could still hear the voices inside his head whispering about how everyone is looking at him, but he could ignore them most of the time. That was until Jared Klienman decided to speak up.

“Loving the new hair length! Very school shooter chic.” He joked with a smirk.

Connor stopped and looked at the kid. He said nothing, but his look said everything.

“It was just a joke.” Klienman laughed.

“I know I’m laughing can’t you tell.” He started his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Am I not laughing loud enough for you?” He shouted.

“Whatever. You’re such a freak.” Klienman laughed and walked off.

His friend chuckled a little and Connor was seeing red. He knew everyone thought he was a freak, but right now he was face to face with it. He was sure that no amount of weed in his system would help him now.

“What are you laughing at?” Connor said staring at the kid. “What? You think I’m some freak, right? Just some fucking freak? I’m not the freak! You’re the fucking freak!” He yelled and threw the kid to the ground.

He had to get out of there. He had to. So he walked into the bathroom. He was in a red white hot rage, but along with his rage came the feelings flooding back. He went into the handicapped stall and thanked the universe that no one else was in the bathroom with him. The voices in his head started fighting with each other.

“You are so pathetic and everyone knew it. _NO. I’m NOT pathetic. Everyone else is pathetic. Especially that Klienman kid._ Well that Klienman kid has friends so he’s obviously better than you. _No. He wasn’t because Klienman had stupid friends!_ No, Klienman’s friends weren’t stupid. You wish you had Klienman’s friends. Hansen isn’t stupid, but he laughed at you, he thinks you’re a freak just like the rest of them. You’re a freak.”

Connor grabbed his head praying for it all to stop. He just wanted it to stop. He sunk back against the wall and tried to think of something else. Anything else. Something that would ground him. He tried so hard to think of a happy memory but he couldn’t. He couldn’t think of anything. He turned and punched the wall as hard as he could. Why was he such a freak?

He sat on the floor of the bathroom for almost a half an hour before he had calmed down enough to leave the stall. He was fine. Everything was fine. He didn’t feel like going to class though. So he didn’t. He took another deep breath and grabbed his bag off the floor, and headed to the computer lab. It wasn’t much but watching shitty videos on the computer was better than being in class. No one ever really expected him to show up anyway so it didn’t matter.

He got to the computer lab and it was mostly empty which he was happy about. He didn’t want to talk to anyone today. Then he remembered he had an essay he was supposed to finish for his English class. The only class he didn’t hate. The rest of the classes were boring the the material was stupid, but in English he could read a book and just completely get lost in it. He could escape the horrors of reality for a bit. He logged in and took a deep breath before opening his essay. It was almost done, but he wanted it to be right. Everyone thinks he doesn’t care about anything, but he does sometimes. He just wanted the essay not to suck. He needed to prove a point to himself that he wasn’t a failure.

He took another deep breath to try and hush the voices that continued to bicker in his head. It only took him about 20 minutes to finish and proof read his essay. He was kind of proud of it. Or at least he tried to be proud of it. His inner demons always had something to say about it. He looked at it once more before hitting print. “Wow this fucking sucks. Ms. Washburn is going to think you’re a fucking moron. It’s okay though because it’s true. You’re a freak and you’re always a disappointment.” His mind wouldn’t shut up. He quickly hit print and just decided that whatever he had written was good enough. No one expected much from him anyway.

He logged out and got up to head to the printer and pick up his essay. When he got there the last page had finished printing and he picked them up. All five pages were there, but there was also a page that wasn’t his. He shoved his essay into his backpack and grabbed the extra paper. He was going to just put it back on the printer. That would make the most sense, but he read the first line.

“Dear Evan Hansen”. It dawned on him that Evan Hansen was the kid from earlier who he had thrown to the ground. He cringed at the thought. He felt bad. He didn’t mean to do that. He wasn’t really in control of his actions, or at least that’s what it felt like. The rage had distorted everything. He never meant to hurt him. Fuck.

He grabbed the paper and looked around the room spotting Hansen in the corner. “I think this is yours.” He said offering the paper to Evan.

Evan’s eyes looked momentarily panicked and another wave of guilt filled him. He really never meant to hurt anyone, but no one ever believed him. They just saw him as this monster and maybe that’s really all he was.

“Um, it says Dear Evan Hansen. That’s you, right?” Connor continued, but before Evan could answer he noticed the cast. “What happened to your arm?”

Evan looked down still in shock and stumbled back a bit. “Oh – I – Uh. I fell out of a tree…this summer.” He finally croaked out.

Connor was momentarily stunned. He had imagined a far more exciting story than that. “That is the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.” He deadpanned. Then he noticed the blank cast. “Um, no one has signed your cast yet.”

Evan looked back at the cast. “Oh- yeah- well- ya know, you kind of need friends…for…for that.” He trailed off never meeting Connor’s eyes.

Connor immediately felt bad. Fuck. He had just threw this kid to the ground and screamed at him only an hour or two ago. “I’ll sign it.” He said without really thinking it through.

“Wait, what?” Evan replied making eye contact with him for the first time in minutes.

“I’ll sign it. Do you have a marker?” He answered.

Evan reached into his bag and pulled out a marker. He wasn’t sure why he was letting this kid who had hated him only moments ago to sign his cast, but he decided not to stir the pot.

Connor grabbed the marker and wrote his name in big letters on the cast. He handed the marker back to Evan. “There, now I guess we can both pretend we have friends.” He says with a sad laugh. “I’m sorry about earlier.” He adds. “I just…I don’t know…I’m sorry.”

Then he remembers why he came over in the first place. “Oh yeah here is your paper.” He said holding it out again, but then a word caught his eye. Zoey. As in his sister Zoey? Why would Evan be writing about his sister? Was this all some kind of big joke? That has to be it. Connor’s brain ran rampid again.

“I knew it. He think’s you’re a freak. He knew you were in here. He was waiting for you to find it.” His brain wouldn’t shut up.

“Why is Zoey in this? Why did you write my sister’s name in this?” Connor says trying not to shake.

Evan looked at him with fear returning to his eyes, but Connor couldn’t see that anymore. He just saw the letter. He just saw that Evan Hansen thought he was a freak. He thought he should disappear too.

Evan couldn’t even get a word out before Connor started yelling, “You knew I would find this. You purposely wrote this to get to me didn’t you. You DO think I’m a freak. I’m not a fucking freak. I’m not!” He yelled and stormed out of the room. He was done. He couldn’t be in this school anymore. He was done.

He headed straight for the exit. He knew that he would get in trouble and that the school would call his parents but he didn’t care. They hated him anyway. He was the disappointment of the family. They gave up on him years ago. They didn’t care anymore. They probably wanted him dead. That was probably it. They were probably just waiting for him to die so that they didn’t have to deal with him anymore. Well maybe he should just give them what they want. It would be better than living in this nightmare.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He needed help, but every time he tried his brain would tell him to stop being so pathetic. Stop being such a child. Stop being the disappointment. His father’s words echoed in his head, “You’re being childish and pathetic, Connor! Grow up! Maybe this will be a wake-up call. I’ve done everything I can for you, and you still insist on doing this! I’m done! You win! I’m done fighting you!”

He didn’t want his parents to be done with him. Or maybe he did. His mind was a jumbled mess. He went to the bus stop to get a ride home since Zoey had driven. He wasn’t going to tell her her left, if he did she’d tell their parents like the snitch she is. She probably wanted him gone too. One less hastle.

He got on the bus and went home. Letter still in his hand. He crumpled it up and shoved it in his pocket. He was so tired of living.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continue? It's gonna get worse before it gets better though. I mean it WILL get better, but it's gonna hit rock bottom first. Recovery is a bitch, but I speak from experience when I say it's possible and it's wonderful. Anyone interested in more?


	3. Trying To Speak but Nobody Could Hear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW SUICIDE (non graphic, but still heavily talked about) 
> 
> After reading Evan Hansen's note and leaving school Connor had a run in with his parents about skipping class. What they don't know is what is going on in the boy's head and what the demons he's being haunted by are telling him today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter HEAVILY focuses on suicide so if that's a trigger for you just skip this one. I do promise this will have a happy ending. Even though it may not seem like it now.

He didn’t know where to go, so he just went home. His parents would know he left school soon enough. His rage had calmed, but what hadn’t changed was his mind.

He walked in the door to hear someone in the kitchen. He didn’t wait for them to come out. He just headed straight for his room.

“Connor Murphy! What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in school!” He heard his mother from behind him. He momentarily paused debating if he should respond, but his mind was made up the moment that he heard a second voice.

“I told you Cynthia. I told you. We’ve done everything we could for him and he still refuses to listen. He refuses to do anything he’s told. He’s hopeless. Just let him go. He’ll see where this behavior gets him in the long road. I’m done fighting him. It’s worthless.” Larry said with an intense bite in his voice.

In that moment Connor’s mind was made up. He was done. He wasn’t angry at anyone anymore. How could he be mad at them? He was just the monster that they had to put up with all the time. He was doing them a favor, right? He was dangerous. He was a freak. Even his father had told him that he was hopeless. It was time. He had decided.

He walked to his room without saying anything. His entire body was numb. He couldn’t feel anything but numbness. Connor walked into his room and shut the door quietly. He didn’t have the energy to slam it this time. He just didn’t. After the door was shut he sunk back against it and put his head in his hands. All he wanted to do was cry, but he couldn’t. Tears weren’t something that came easily when he was so numb. He couldn’t feel any emotions really. The perfect time. He heard his parents arguing down the hall, but he didn’t care what they were saying. He was too busy listening to the shouting in his head. He was tired and he was done.

* * *

 

“Larry how dare you say that!” Cynthia yells. “That’s your son!” She couldn’t believe that he would give up on their child.

“I’ve given him every opportunity to change and he has done nothing. He has ignored every helping hand that we have offered him. He is hopeless. I didn’t think those kids existed, but we have a prime example right here.” Larry fumed. He was tired of yelling at a wall. It didn’t matter what they did it had no impact on Connor.

They had tried everything and he was out of ideas. Every time they offered a new way to discipline Connor it always ended the same way. No progress and often everyone was worse off than they had started. He didn’t know who the kid was that was in that room was, but it was not his little Connor that he used to play catch with when he was in elementary school. No, the person in that room was toxic and hopeless. He was done trying.

“You don’t get to give up on our children!” Cynthia yelled. “You don’t get to pick and choose the best parts of people, especially not your family! What will that say to Connor if his own family gives up on him, Larry!”

“You act as though he cares that we’ve tried! He obviously couldn’t care less what we had to say.” Larry couldn’t understand how Cynthia didn’t understand that this whole situation was hopeless. They had tried to discipline him in every way they could. What more did she want them to do?  
  
There was a pause before she made her final statement. “He’s your son.” She said. There wasn’t really any anger in her voice. There was more hurt than anything. She sounded hurt.

She turned and walked out of the room and headed to the bathroom. Once there she locked herself in and grabbed some tissues from the counter as she took a seat on the toilet seat. Her mind was racing. How could Larry say that about his own son? A couple of tears had made their way out of her eyes. The worst part, she thought, was that she didn’t know what to do either. She just refused to believe that the little kid who she had sat on the floor and helped with his homework or the kid that used to take his little sister out and show her how to climb a tree, was gone. He was in there somewhere. She just didn’t know where.

She wiped her eyes one more time before throwing the tissues away and standing up. She decided to go talk to Connor. If he would listen to her, that was. Maybe she could figure out why he came home from school early. There had to be a reason, right?

She checked her appearance in the mirror to make sure that it wasn’t obvious that she had been crying and brushed her hair back before opening the door to the bathroom. She slowly looked out into the living room and Larry was sitting on the couch working on his laptop as if nothing had happened. She tried to shake off the feeling of anger that she still had about the fight as she turned to walk to Connor’s room.

She knocked first, of course. She braced herself for the yelling that she might be subject to, but nothing came.

“Connor?” She said knocking again. Still a little concerned that he would lash out.

After a few more times of trying and getting nothing she was confused. She knocked a little harder thinking maybe he had headphones in, but as she knocked the door had accidentally come ajar. She had no intention of just walking into the room without permission. She was a little worried what would happen if she did, but as the door cracked open she saw him lying in bed. What caught her attention was the fact that he was lying extremely awkwardly.

“Connor?” She said opening the door a bit more. That’s when she saw him convulse. It was just once or twice, but as soon as she saw the empty bottle on the floor her stomach dropped. She screamed.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. NO No no no no!” She was immediately running over to the bed to her son. “No no no Connor please no….please no!” She was still screaming.

Larry heard the screaming and came running. He had no idea what he would find, but he had not expected that.

“Call 911. Please. Please call them now. Please.” Cynthia was pleading while she was cradling Connor. Tears streaming down her face.

Larry immediately reached for his phone. He was still in shock.

* * *

The ambulance came and took Connor and Cynthia went with him. Larry had told her he would call the school and tell them that Zoey needs to leave immediately. He was so confused about what had just happened. Everything was moving so fast. He couldn’t comprehend all of the previous events.

Cynthia got to the ER with the ambulance and they took Connor in. She was told to stay in the waiting room and to give the nurse his information. She stood there shaking. She couldn’t cry anymore. She just in shock. She took the paper from the nurse to fill out. The words started to blur together and her hand was shaking so bad it was nearly impossible to fill out.

“Mrs. Murphy?” A male voice called in the haze. She looked up to see a man in a button up shirt with a hospital badge. “I’m Shawn. I’m with the mental health wing. I wanted to talk to you.”

“I didn’t know. I didn’t. I promise. I didn’t know.” She started to ramble immediately tears forming in her eyes again for the first time since they arrived at the hospital.

He took a seat beside her and tentatively touched her shoulder to try and ground her. “I’m not here to talk about that. I want to talk to you first.” He said calmly.

“First? Does that mean he’s going to be okay? Do you know anything? Is he okay? I didn’t know. I really didn’t.” She was shaking again.

He grabbed her hands and directed her to look him in the eyes. “They are hopeful, but before we talk about anything else I need you to take a deep breath with me. Can you do that?”

She took a shaky breath and then another.

“Good.” Shawn said letting go of her hands. “I will let the doctors give you more details, but I am here to make sure that you’re okay. Going through something like this is an incredible trauma and we want to not only help the patient but also the patient’s family. Are you alone?” He said glancing around.

“No..no my – um – my husband and my daughter are…they’re supposed to be on their way.” She said quietly. “Can I talk to someone about my son?” Her voice cracked.

“Of course.” He said with a small smile. “I’ll see if I can find someone. Is it okay if I come back to check on you in about an hour?” He asks.

All she can do is nod. She just wants to know if her son will be okay. 

* * *

 

  
She kept wondering where her family was. Why weren’t they here yet? Why wasn’t Larry here? Where was Zoey? Did she know? Was she okay? Why hadn’t anyone come to tell her about Connor yet? Her heart was starting to pound.

“Mrs. Murphy?” A young woman came toward her wearing maroon scrubs and a hospital badge.

“Is Connor okay? Can I go see him? My husband and daughter are going to be here soon. They’ll want to see him too. Is he okay?” Her heart was pounding louder than it had before. She almost dreaded the answer to the question. If the answer was yes then everything was going to be okay, but she dreaded the answer because if the answer was no…she would rather live in denial.

“Connor is going to be okay. We are lucky that we caught it before too much was absorbed into the blood stream. That’s thanks to you.” She said with a small smile. “We do, unfortunately believe that this was a suicide attempt and hospital policy says that we have to hold him for the minimum of a 72 hour evaluation. He’s currently asleep, but if you give us an hour or two to finish some things up you should be able to go see him. We do advise that if you do go in to see him, keep all conversation light and even though you may be angry, do not yell or blame. It will only make things worse at this point. I know that you met Shawn. He is one of our mental health professionals at this facility and he will be out shortly to talk to you about everything. I know that was a lot of information. Does that make sense?” She asked.

Cynthia just nodded. She heard what the young woman had said, but all she focused on was Connor was going to be okay.

“Good.” The young woman said. “I’ll go and let Shawn know the good news as well.”

It had been 3 hours since they had arrived but it had felt like days. Suddenly a door opened and Zoey had come running in with Larry trailing behind her. “Mom!” She shouted as she ran to hug her.

“He’s gonna be okay. It’s all gonna be okay.” She said crying and hugging Zoey even tighter. She wasn’t sure how much she believed it, but right now she just needed to hear it. Everything was going to be okay. Hopefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This is heavily based on personal experience so I had to be in an okay mindset to write this. That's why it took a couple days. Anyone still interested in the story? Now is where the story really picks up. It's going to be an uphill climb, but a happy ending is possible!


	4. No Such Thing As A Lost Cause

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's thoughts after the first few hours in the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back for more? Well keep all extremities inside the car at all times because this rollercoaster is just starting. Also the guy that talked to me in the hospital that Shawn was modeled after kinda looked like Avi from Pentatonix and he was really great. I don't remember his name at all. Sedatives are a powerful things haha. Enjoy!! <3

Zoey didn’t know how to feel about all of this. She almost felt guilty. Not because she felt like she should take responsibility for what Connor had done but because she didn’t. After her initial shock wore off she didn’t feel any certain way about it. He was her brother; she should have cried. She didn’t though.

She had some good memories with Connor, but none recently. In fact, most of her memories about Connor in recent years have been fights and screaming. She was afraid of him sometimes.  Her memories of being young were good though. She remembers being small and having Connor show her the best place to find flowers in the garden. She remembers he used to ask their mom if he could make cookies for them and Zoey always got to help. There were good memories too.

But even the good memories came with some bad ones. Memories of Connor getting frustrated and pushing her or times when he was crying and she wanted to help her brother but any time she talked to him he’d yell at her. That was the beginning of the end for them. Her dad had told her it’s a teenage boy thing, but she didn’t know anyone at school who was like Connor. Larry wouldn’t listen though; he was so sure he knew what was going on.

At one point, he decided the best way to go about it was to implement more rules. He gave them curfews which Connor often broke. He gave them chores which Connor rarely did. He gave them all of these responsibilities that he claimed were to help Connor, but all they did was make Zoey’s life harder. She didn’t complain much though. Her parents didn’t seem to have the patience for her comments about everything. I mean it’s not like she knew what was going on with Connor, but they never talked to her about it. They never consulted her before they made these changes. They just did it and she was along for the ride.

She thought about the fact that they were all sitting in a waiting room because her brother had tried to kill himself. Her mother was still wiping at a stray tear or two. Her father was on his phone scrolling the news pages and she was just sitting and waiting. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was waiting for, but she wasn’t excited to find out. What would Connor be like when he came home? Would it be the same? Would it be worse? She had no hope that it would be better. She had been let down too many times to believe in that anymore.

* * *

 

Larry was just frustrated. After contacting the school to get Zoey out of class he had taken a couple of moments to just sit and think. He had given that boy everything. He had done everything he could do to try and get Connor on the straight and narrow. He didn’t blame himself though. He had tried his best as a parent. This was Connor’s choice and as stupid a choice as it was, it was his. Larry couldn’t do anything.

The nurses and doctors had all said that Connor had tried to kill himself and although everyone kept saying that there was a dark part in Larry’s mind that said maybe he was just trying to get high. Maybe he was still trying to be rebellious and this time it bit him in the ass. He kept that idea to himself though. He knew that something was wrong, but he also knew his son, and his son liked to constantly push the boundaries. 

A man with the psychology wing had come out to talk to them and asked if there was a history of mental illness in the family, to which Larry had replied no, obviously. He had no problems with “crazy” people but his family was not part of their group. Sure, Connor had gone a little off the wire, but he wasn’t seeing dragons or anything like that. He was just a normal teen who was going through a rebellious period. He had told Cynthia this would pass, but Connor had been persistent. He wasn't mentally ill though. Maybe it was a one time thing. Larry knew what mental illness looked light and it didn't look like Connor. He tried to tell the man about this, but he just kept insisting that it was standard procedure. Larry understood that it was a part of the 'standard procedure', he just didn’t think it was necessary.

* * *

 

Cynthia was still shaken to her core. She wasn’t allowed to see him yet and every moment spent in that waiting room felt like an hour. What if she hadn’t gone to check on him? What if she hadn’t found him in time? Her chest tightened again. She didn’t want to imagine what could have happened but sitting in the hospital just waiting her mind had a lot of time to wonder.

She partially blamed herself. She should have known. How could she not have known? He didn’t seem any different that morning. He didn’t even seem that different when he got back from school. Maybe a little quiet, but nothing that set off any red flags. She kept thinking back and looking for a sign of when it all went wrong. Her mind didn’t attribute his rebellious behavior to mental illness. It didn’t even cross her mind at the time.

When Shawn had come to talk to them he had said that they want to do a full psych evaluation while he is in the hospital. They think there is something wrong. There had to be something wrong if he tried to kill himself. He asked her some questions about how he was the days before and she had no response. He was like he always is. There weren’t any warning signs. She would have noticed if there were.

Cynthia and Connor didn’t talk much anymore. He mostly kept to himself and ignored her attempts. She couldn’t help but think maybe if she tried harder or paid more attention she would have gotten through to him. Right now, she just wanted to see her son so that she knew he was okay.

* * *

 

“Connor?” A man said as he walked in. He wasn’t dressed like the doctors, but he had a hospital badge so he must have worked there. “My name is Shawn. I’m from the mental health wing here at the hospital. Do you mind if I talk to you a little bit?”

Connor wanted to say no. He wanted to say to leave him alone. His entire body ached and whatever medication they had given him after everything was making him insanely tired. He just wanted this Shawn guy to leave, but he knew he wasn’t getting away from it that easily. So he just nodded.

“Great.” The guy said with a half smile. “How are you feeling?” He asked pulling up a chair.

It took everything in him to speak. “I’m fine.” He said. His voice was extremely hoarse and he had shocked himself.

“Do you know why you’re here?” The man said looking at some papers he had brought with him.

Connor closed his eyes. “Yes.” He said not caring to go into detail.

Shawn waited patiently for a continued response but upon realizing he wasn’t getting one he probed again. “Care to tell me why you’re here?”

Connor sighed which sent a pain through his abdomen. “Well you’re here asking me questions, so I think we both know why I’m here.”

Shawn gave a half smile as he looked back at his papers. “Fair enough. I have to ask you some questions though.”

Connor just gave a slight nod. The sooner he was done, the sooner he could go to sleep.

“Have you ever been diagnosed with a mental illness?” Shawn started pulling out a pen.

“No.” Connor sighed. He didn’t feel angry or anything though. The drugs they must have given him had pretty much wiped him out. He just felt….there. Like he was just existing. That was it.

Shawn made a mark on a paper. “Before today have you ever felt like you were a danger to yourself or others?” He asked, as if he was merely asking what kind of juice he wanted with breakfast.

Connor stopped and there was a long pause. He didn’t know if he should give real answers. He just wanted to get out of here. He just wanted to be gone. He didn’t want this to happen. He didn’t want to survive. He had wanted to die. He wanted to disappear.

Shawn must have noticed Connor’s internal struggle because he put down the papers on the table by the bed. “Listen, Connor. My only job here is to help you. I’m not here to judge you and I’m not here to tell you how to feel. I’m here to see how you feel and see how we can help you feel better about it. You can lie to me all you want, but it’s not hurting me at all. All it’s doing is lowering your chances of getting help. You may not say you need help, but I know that somewhere deep inside, you know it. You don’t have to ask for it. I’m just here to give it to you. No questions asked…..okay well some questions asked, but they’re all just a part of it.” He smiled.

Connor had never had someone look at him and say that they knew he wanted help and that they wanted to help. He had stopped asking for help ages ago. No one listened anyway. But he was too far gone now. There was no way that this guy could help him. Like Larry said, it was hopeless.

“You can’t help me.” Connor said avoiding eye contact.

Shawn leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. “Why not?” He asked.

“You just can’t. I’ve tried. You can’t help me.” He said his voice cracking.

Shawn looked like he was contemplating something. “I don’t think that’s completely true. I think that having someone to talk to about situations, especially stressful ones, is always something that can be helpful.”

His voice wasn’t belittling or anything. He sounded like he was just genuinely trying to help. It seemed too good to be true. Connor looked at him trying to figure out what kind of ulterior motive the man might have. “You’re just saying that because it’s your job.” He said.

Shawn just smiled. “It is my job, and I love my job. I got into this field because I love helping people. There is no such thing as a lost cause, Connor. I don't think you are ever too far gone to ask for help. Whatever you say here doesn't have to go anywhere else. You don't have to tell your parents or your sister or anything. It's your choice. I'm just here to help.”

Connor thought about it for a minute. Shawn didn't press him to continue. They just sat in a comfortable silence for a while. “Yes.” He finally said in a very soft croaky voice.

“Yes, what?” Shawn asked.

“To your – um – your question from before. Yes. I have.” He said avoiding eye contact.

Shawn nodded his head slightly and grabbed his papers again. “Okay. Next question?” He asked.

Connor just nodded. No one had ever offered him help like this before and he still didn’t have much faith that this would help. Maybe it was the fault of the drugs in his system, but he decided it would be okay to give it a chance.


	5. Help Is Not Impossible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Therapy" is such a medical term. Connor wasn't going to therapy, he was just talking to someone. They said he had to while he was in the hospital, and he decided that maybe, just maybe...it wouldn't be that bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I'm sorry this took so long to get up and I know it's kind of short! I've been all over the country for work the past few weeks and I haven't had a chance to sit down and write. I've been in a depressive rut this weekend and it kept me from work today, but that meant that I had a little bit of time to write and get out some of my feelings. Hope you enjoy!

The haze in his mind was almost worse than the constant pain. He was tired all the time and he felt like he couldn’t focus. They had put him on some kind of medication, but he couldn’t even remember the name. Everything was in a thick haze. He found himself on a couch in Shawn’s office. They were supposed to be talking, but he couldn’t remember how long he’d been there.

“This is a safe space, Connor. Can we talk about what happened that day?” He asked.

Connor wanted to protest or say that it wasn’t anyone’s business, but he didn’t have any strong feelings about it. He was pretty calm. Everything was calm. It felt like everything was floating in milk? Does that even make sense? Probably not, but that’s what he thought. He didn’t have the strength to argue with him. “Yeah, sure.” Connor replied.

“Okay, we don’t have to talk about anything that you don’t want to talk about right now. Just remember that I’m only here to help you and I can only do that if you talk to me.”

Connor had felt like he had heard that spiel 30 times already, but he quietly appreciated being reminded that someone was on his side.

“So what was different about that day?” Shawn asked as he pulled his notebook closer to his chest.

He had to think about it for a minute. What had been different about that day? He couldn’t really pick anything out. I mean he had been harassed at school hundreds of times before, his parents had fought thousands of times before, nothing had really been different. He sat quietly thinking about what was the deciding factor and he couldn’t really find it. Nothing unusual had happened. It had just been growing. It had been growing since he was a little kid. This demon that wouldn’t leave him alone no matter how hard he tried to shake it. Connor hadn’t realized how far he’d drifted into his subconscious and his thoughts until he heard a voice call to him and change the subject.

“Connor? What makes you happy?”

That was a question no one had asked him in a long time. What did make him happy?

“I don’t know.” He said after a second.

Shawn just smiled. “What used to make you happy then? When you were younger? Give me a happy memory. No matter how small.”

He thought for a moment. “There was…” He started as he fondly remembered the time. “There was a time when I was younger. Zoey was really little. She used to want to take my books, but she was too young to read and I was learning.” He stopped. “So…so my mom decided that I should read them to her. That wasn’t good enough for me though. I decided I wanted to teach her to read them. So I tried to teach her everything I learned in school. We even had a little desk and everything. I think I was like 7.” He wasn’t focusing on anything in particular. He was zoned out in the sea of milky memories thinking about how much fun it used to be to play school with Zoey. His mom had always told him he should be a teacher. HA. If only she had known what he would become.

“What is your relationship with Zoey now?” Shawn asked.

Connor cringed and kept his eyes trained on a spot on the ground. His mind continued playing moments over and over. Moments where he had threatened to kill her. Moments when he had hurt her. Moments when his anger was too much. He hadn’t wanted any of that. He never wanted to kill her. He loved her, but he just couldn’t stop himself. It was like he was on autopilot. He still feels that way sometimes. Like if he just let himself go he could beat someone into the ground without a second thought. It scared him. It was never his intention to hurt people, but when his mind went to that place the rational part of his mind was overtaken by the rest. The dark part prevailed.

“Bad.” He said after a long period of thought.

Shawn tried to get some more information. “What do you mean by that?”

“I don’t know.” Connor answered quickly. He did know, but his knee-jerk response to this type of questioning was to shut himself off.

“Have you ever fought with her?” Shawn asked calmly.

“Yes.”

“Have you ever hurt her?” There was no judgement in his voice even though Connor was searching for it.

“….yes.”

“Has she ever hurt you?”

That was a question Connor had not been expecting. No one ever asked about him. Had Zoey ever hurt him? He tried to think back. She had, but never without a reason. It was always in self-defense, which made him feel even worse.

“No.”

Shawn nodded his head. He didn’t write anything down or do anything else. He was just listening.

“Have you ever wanted to hurt her? Or your family?”

“No.” Connor answered quickly but he knew that wasn’t completely true. He didn’t want to, but he did. It was hard to understand. “Well…no, but…” Connor paused. “You wouldn’t understand.” He said and shifted in his seat.

“Try me.” Shawn said with a small smile.

This was an entirely new experience for Connor. He had never had someone who wanted to know more and wanted to understand. He couldn’t decide how he felt about it. He didn’t know how he felt about trying to explain it to someone, but he looked over at Shawn who hadn’t seemed to judge him at all during this time. He had never pressed him for information he didn’t want to give. He had never made him feel like a science experiment. He knew he felt hazy and he wanted to blame his openness on the medication, but deep down he also just really wanted someone who would listen. No one would listen.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone.” He starts. “But I do….sometimes.” He takes a deep breath. He tries to push the haze out of his mind but it didn’t help. He looked over to see Shawn sitting patiently, waiting for him to continue, but Connor didn’t feel pressured. It was a new experience all around.

“Sometimes, when things get really bad, I don’t have control. I just lose it. I just want to hurt someone or I want to break something. I don’t know why. I don’t want to, but it’s like my brain flips a switch and I can’t help it. I get so mad. Everything just gets to be so much. It’s overwhelming and I can’t stop and think about what I’m doing. I just do it. The voice in my head just drowns out my own voice and I can’t do anything to stop it. I try. I really do. I just can’t, and no one listens to me, or believes me.” By now Connor realizes he’s been staring at the floor and the tears have already begun to fall. He suddenly feels embarrassed. He can’t be weak. He’s not weak. He can’t cry.

He quickly adjusts himself on the couch so that he’s sitting up straighter and wipes away the tears as quickly as he can. As if he could make the doctor forget what he had seen. He clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair to try and gather himself. Shawn isn’t looking at him any different. In fact, he seemed to have taken the time to adjust himself in the chair too, switching his crossed legs and not looking at Connor. He knew that Shawn had seen everything, but he appreciated that he had made sure not to make a big deal about it. Maybe it was okay to talk to someone about it. He hadn’t decided yet, but he was holding his decision at a firm maybe.

**Author's Note:**

> If you think I should continue the story let me know. I have a plan of where I want this to go, but I don't know if anyone is interested in reading it. It's a lot of just venting my personal experiences haha. Kudos and comments are always welcome! Should I do another chapter?


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